


and your skin on my skin

by cominginside



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Washington Capitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-12
Updated: 2011-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-25 19:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cominginside/pseuds/cominginside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason ends up with a lap full of Sasha and finds himself unwilling to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and your skin on my skin

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/hockeyanonmeme/460.html?thread=925388#t925388) on the [](http://hockeyanonmeme.livejournal.com/profile)[**hockeyanonmeme**](http://hockeyanonmeme.livejournal.com/). Title from _Charlotte Sometimes - Waves and the Both of Us_.

Jason's never had problems drawing lines between his personal life and his professional life before. If anything, he's been told he's a little _too_ good at it--a little too brusque, a little too standoffish. It's not like he's a hated loner or anything; he's had friends on all his teams. Hell, he still has friends on most of them, even if they are the kind of friendships that get put aside on game day. He's just good at not letting teammates get too far under his skin, because he recognizes that someday they may end up playing against each other, and it's never good to get too attached.

And, yeah, he's had guys on his past teams who are the tactile type. Arms around shoulders, affectionate shoulder bumps, all that kind of stuff. There have even been a few guys who have been downright cuddly, and Jason's never had a problem with that, even if he's not the type to wrap himself around anyone off the ice. Being a hockey player doesn't mean that guys should suddenly turn down human affection, no matter what the stupid stereotypes about jocks are.

None of this has prepared him for Alexander Semin.

Coming into the team, he'd had a pretty good idea of what to expect in terms of play, and he'd done well enough with that. He's gotten enough praise from people both inside the team and out about what he's managed to do for the team, and for Sasha specifically, that he has no real doubts about his abilities there.

Off the ice, though, Jason's floundering a bit. The guys clicked with him quickly enough, and that's great. He's happy enough to form friendships and dole out advice to the younger guys, whether they need it about hockey or about life outside the rink. He'd pretty much expected to take on a mentor role when he'd agreed to the trade.

He hadn't expected to take on the role of armchair, but that hasn't stopped Sasha from plunking himself down on Jason's lap. Alex had invited them over, along with about half the team, to spend an afternoon testing out some new hockey game that he's supposed to have input on. Mostly this means that they're hanging out and completely ignoring the game. Jason's talking to Brooks about some car problems he's been having; Sasha's talking to Nicky about--well, Jason has no idea, because he wasn't paying attention until he'd found himself with a lap full of Russian.

"Um," he says, looking up at Sasha and trying to figure out the correct response to the situation. He looks back at Brooks, who laughs.

"He does that," Brooks says, shrugging. "You'll get used to it."

"Right," Jason says, and shifts until Sasha's a little more comfortably settled across his thighs. Across the room, he can hear Alex and Greenie arguing about which of them gets Ryan Miller for their game team, with Carly trying to mediate so they can get around to starting the game. No one seems to care that Sasha's sitting on Jason's lap, so he decides that it's probably best to just go with it.

Sasha gives him a bright smile and leans in to bump his shoulder into Jason's, but he doesn't say anything, just goes back to listening to Nicky like this is perfectly normal. Maybe it is, for him. Jason isn't surprised.

After a few minutes, he stops thinking about it every time Sasha shifts, and by the time dinner is served, he actually feels a little strange _not_ having Sasha sitting on him. Alex's mother's cooking makes up for the loss of contact, though.

They all drift back into the living room when dinner's over, people resettling so they can have a better view of the screen. Jason reaches out as Sasha walks by and snags him by the waist to pull him back down onto his lap, earning himself a smile. This time they're actually paying attention to the game, so Sasha snuggles closer to Jason, one arm around his shoulders.

On the screen, Alex's team is beating Mike's team pretty thoroughly. Jason watches digital simulcrums of his teammates and the guys they play against go up against each other with surprising realism and mostly tunes out the chirping going on from the real life players. He didn't end up getting picked on either team, which is fine with him. There are little pixelated versions of a few of the other guys, though, including Sasha, who throws his arms in the air as his doppelganger scores a goal against Miller, who'd finally gone to Greener. Jason laughs and wraps his arms around Sasha to keep him from falling over as he leans down to exchange a complex high-five with Alex.

He leaves his arms where they are even when Sasha's curled up against his chest again. There's just enough difference in height that Sasha can comfortably lean his head on Jason's shoulder, hair surprisingly soft where it brushes Jason's jaw. Without really thinking about it, Jason tilts his head to press his cheek against the top of Sasha's head. Sasha nuzzles closer, squirming a little on Jason's lap.

Suddenly, Jason is very, very aware of the heat and weight of Sasha across his legs and against his chest. It's like the rest of the room has faded out and left a little bubble of heat and colour around the two of them. He realizes, belatedly, that he's tracing lines along the soft skin of Sasha's hip with his thumb, and--even more belatedly--that his cock is starting to thicken in his jeans.

Jason freezes in place and then subtly shifts until Sasha's not sitting directly on his crotch. That helps for a few minutes, but as the intensity of the game ramps up--Greener seems to have figured out what to do to keep Alex at bay--Sasha starts wiggling whenever anything exciting happens. By the end of the match, Jason has a death grip on Sasha's hips, trying to keep him still and as far away from Jason's dick as possible. If Sasha has noticed either the hold Jason has on him or the bulge in his jeans, he hasn't shown it in any way.

Logically, Jason knows that what he should really do is get Sasha off his lap. There's space on the couch. There's other guys with wide open laps--including Alex, now. Jason should just say something about his leg going numb or make an excuse to stand up, get Sasha off his lap, and get himself under control before something embarrassing happens. And he should definitely stop tracing his fingers along Sasha's skin beneath his shirt.

Knowing that he should stop and actually stopping are two different things, though, and Jason neither removes Sasha from his lap nor stops stroking his hip. Instead, he purposefully engages himself in conversation with the rest of the guys, trying to distract himself. It works well enough; he gets pretty thoroughly absorbed in a debate about the game's handling of penalties, and it's almost enough to stop thinking about Sasha.

The thing is, Jason thinks, he really should have seen this coming. He's seen how Sasha is with, well, _everyone_ , physically affectionate and demanding, and he'd have to be blind to miss the way that Sasha has latched onto him. Hell, he probably should have seen how he'd react, too. Jason's well aware of his own possessive streak, and something about Sasha is...compelling.

Still, Jason should stop this before it starts.

Just as he's nearly convinced himself to release his hold on Sasha, Sasha burrows closer and drops his face into Jason's neck, apparently bored with the conversation. The movement drags his thighs straight over Jason's cock, which promptly takes an interest in the situation. Jason stops breathing and tries to move Sasha before the other man notices that he's hard, but it's too late. Sasha shifts his hips a couple of times, pressing down on Jason's erection, and then sits up and looks at him.

Jason isn't sure what to expect--shock, maybe, or disgust--but it definitely isn't the slow, dirty smirk that Sasha gives him, or the way Sasha wriggles with intent against Jason's lap. Something sparks inside him, hot and sharp, and he tightens his grip on Sasha's hips and narrows his eyes, trying to convey that this is neither the time nor place. Luckily Sasha seems to get it, because he smiles more normally and stops moving, settling in, curled up against Jason's chest again. Jason waits a few moments, then relaxes his grip and lets out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding.

The rest of the evening passes, although Jason only has the slightest idea of what's happening around him. Mostly he's thinking through the long-term implications of his and Sasha's flirtations--because that's what they are, really, and trying to pretend otherwise is stupid. There's a big part of him that's telling him that taking this any further is a bad idea; he'd been brought to the team to stablize and motivate them, not to sleep with them. Plus, it's never a good idea to start an intrateam relationship. The rest of him is torn between thinking things through sensibly and coming to the conclusion that they're grown men who can evaluate the risks and make their own decisions and, well, thinking _fuck it, why not_?

In the end, he decides that at this point, cutting Sasha off would probably make things worse than going with it. Jason will just have to make sure that Sasha's not letting anything between them affect things on the ice, and do the same himself.

When the gathering breaks up, Sasha leans down and says, "Follow me," low in Jason's ear like it's a foregone conclusion. Maybe it is.

The drive to Sasha's place from Alex's place isn't one Jason knows well, so he trails along after Sasha's car, thankful for the mostly empty roads. In some situations, he'd use the drive to think things through, but he had plenty of time to do that at the party, and he's made his decision.

Jason pulls his car into the drive behind Sasha and locks it as he walks up the steps to where Sasha is waiting outside his door. The house is dark and quiet when they walk in, empty for the night, and it feels strange when Sasha hits the lights, like this should be an affair held under the cover of darkness.

"Come on," Sasha says, toeing off his shoes and leaving them on a mat next to the door before heading upstairs. Jason does likewise, following Sasha through familiar hallways to the softly lit expanse of his bedroom.

There's an chair in the corner, solidly built and wide, and Sasha directs him into it with sure hands and a mischievous grin. Jason sits and waits, letting Sasha run things for now. He's not particularly surprised when Sasha drops down onto his lap again.

When Sasha wriggles this time, though, it's with a purpose. He circles his hips across Jason's crotch, movement slow and deliberate, all friction and pressure. Jason groans and grabs Sasha's hips again, not to control him but just to have something to hold on to. He's been half-hard since they walked in the door, and it doesn't take much for his jeans to tent up where Sasha's still grinding against him.

Sasha grins and climbs off him, but it's just to straddle him, long legs braced on either side of Jason. Like this, Sasha has to hold on to the back of the chair, and Jason takes advantage of this to run his hands up under Sasha's shirt, fingers skimming along soft, pale skin to make Sasha squirm and gasp. They haven't said anything since this started, but they don't need to; later, Jason will have to talk things through with Sasha, but for now he'll just tug Sasha's shirt up, one hand braced against his back as Sasha lets go of the chair to shed himself of his shirt.

Jason's shirt follows Sasha's to the floor, but they stop there for a while, Sasha keeping up the slow grind of hips on hips, Jason tracing lines across Sasha's skin. He watches the way colour infuses Sasha, cheeks flushing pink first before the rest of him, down his neck and across his shoulders and chest. When Jason brushes his hands along the flushed areas, they're warm beneath his fingers. Sasha hums contentedly above him and Jason wants to kiss him, so he does.

Sasha's mouth is warm and soft and he goes still when Jason kisses him. For a second, Jason thinks he's made a mistake--misread the situation, misread Sasha--but then Sasha melts against him, going pliant beneath Jason's hands and mouth, and Jason relaxes again.

He takes advantage of the situation and pulls Sasha closer to him, one hand sliding down his back to press fingers against the curve of his spine, the other winding into Sasha's hair to hold him in place. Like this, he can feel Sasha hard against him, even though the layers of cloth and denim between them. Sasha's hips twitch forward every time Jason licks at his mouth, needy and impatient and uncontrolled. Jason drops his hands down and holds Sasha in place, forcing him to focus on the kiss and not his arousal. It's a challenge for him, nearly as much as it is for Sasha; he's achingly hard and the rough friction of his jeans is maddening against his cock.

They kiss for a while, Sasha eventually giving in and letting the kisses turn slow and languid. Jason releases his hips and strokes his back, fingers sliding just beneath the edge of Sasha's artfully frayed jeans. If Jason is controlling how this is going, he's also letting Sasha set his own boundaries. So far, Sasha hasn't tried to slow things down; Jason's pretty sure they're going to take this as far as they can go.

Eventually, Sasha pulls back and arches up into Jason needily, a low whine in his throat.

"Please," he says. It's the first thing that either of them has said since this started, and Jason finds himself impressed at how well they work even without words.

"What do you want?" he asks, looking Sasha in the eye. Sasha's pupils are blown wide, irises just a little rim of pale blue around the edges. He's flushed prettily all over, cheeks pink and mouth red.

"I want--" Sasha says, then stops. He wriggles, his hands going down to the button on Jason's fly. Jason holds onto him, keeping them balanced on the chair, and nods when Sasha looks back up at him.

There's no graceful way to get out of a pair of jeans while sitting down with someone in your lap, so Jason's grateful when Sasha doesn't even try for that, just flicks the button open and yanks the zipper down before pulling Jason's cock out. Jason hisses at the touch, even Sasha's fingers feeling cool against the hot blood filling his dick. Sasha strokes him a couple of times, looking fascinated, and Jason lets his head drop back against the chair, groaning. He desperately wants to strip Sasha down and get his fill of touching, but he's willing to wait and see what Sasha has in mind. It's worked pretty well so far.

That doesn't stop him from pressing his thumbs softly into the curve of Sasha's hips, tracing the lines down to his jeans. Sasha's skin is smooth and soft, belly a little rounded, and when Jason looks up, Sasha's wrinkling his nose at Jason in a way that's more cute than irritated. It makes Jason laugh and lean in for a quick kiss that turns dirty when Sasha bites his lip just hard enough for it to sting. Jason retaliates by rolling his hips up, dick sliding easily through Sasha's fingers as Sasha has to work to keep his balance. Jason's got enough of a grip on him that he's in no danger of actually falling, but Sasha glares at him anyway.

"Jerk," Sasha says, and squeezes Jason's dick hard enough that Jason grunts.

For a moment, Jason is worried that this is going to turn into some kind of battle, but then Sasha squirms backwards and goes to work on his own jeans. Jason tries to keep him steady as Sasha awkwardly wriggles his way out of his pants and underwear, somehow managing to stay on Jason's lap even as he kicks his clothes away onto the floor. Once he's sure that Sasha's not about to fall over--he does have a history of that, and Jason's more concerned about the team's future than getting laid--Jason can take his time appreciating the view. It's not like he's never seen Sasha naked before, but never like this, cock hard and high and distracting.

Jason tugs Sasha forward and kisses him deeply as he fits his hand around Sasha's dick, sliding the head free of the foreskin and brushing his thumb lightly over the tip. Sasha moans into Jason's mouth and shudders against him. Jason wants to drink this all in and hold onto it, to map out every part of Sasha, to press fingerprint bruises into the joints of Sasha's hips to mark him unmistakably. He knew getting into this that he'd find it hard to keep himself removed from the situation, but even with that expectation, he's startled at how much he wants to just keep Sasha as his.

When Jason presses his mouth to Sasha's neck, he can feel Sasha's heartbeat, fast and steady and hot beneath his skin, counterpoint to the soft throb of his cock in Jason's hand. Sasha's completely forgotten about his part of things, hand motionless around Jason's dick, so Jason shifts until they're closer and he can wrap his hand around both of them. Sasha cries out and Jason growls at the first brush of their cocks against each other. It's a little awkward at first, but it gets better once Sasha gives up on helping and just brings his hands up to hold onto Jason's shoulders for balance.

Jason sets a good pace, fast and slightly rough, and watches Sasha's eyes flicker shut and his mouth drop open, lost in the moment and beautifully unselfconscious. Jason's still got his jeans on, and they're probably rough against the inside of Sasha's thighs, but they started this on a chair and they're going to finish it on a chair, apparently, and Jason's not sure he could bring himself to move even if he wanted to. Not when Sasha's rocking against him desperately, making breathy cries every time Jason swipes his thumb along the wet skin just under the head of his cock.

By now, Sasha's not capable of English, and while Jason's not fluent enough in Russian to translate anything, he gets the idea when Sasha reaches between them and weaves his fingers between Jason's, tightening his grip and picking up the pace. Jason's so close to the edge himself that this is almost torture, but it only takes a minute before Sasha's crying out and spilling hot come over both their hands and all over Jason's cock. It's enough to drive Jason to his own orgasm, hips driving upwards so suddenly that they nearly fall off the chair before he comes back to himself and rights them again.

Sasha drops his head to Jason's shoulder, breathing hard, one hand still grasping Jason's shoulder. Jason takes a minute to catch his own breath, absent-mindedly petting Sasha's back until they're both mostly back on Earth. As he detangles their hands and tries to figure out how to get them both cleaned up a bit, Sasha nuzzles his neck and sighs happily.

"Mm," he says, looking deeply pleased with himself as he sits up. Jason wants to roll his eyes, but he's feeling pretty content himself and settles for kissing Sasha again, short and sweet, and then pushing at Sasha until he pouts and climbs off Jason to stand on slightly wobbly legs. There's slight denim burn on his thighs and he winces when he stretches, hips sore from holding that position so long. Jason swats him on the butt as he walks past into the bathroom, causing Sasha to yelp.

Once they're both cleaned up and Jason's ditched his pants, Sasha latches onto Jason's arm and drags him over to the bed, pulling him down onto it and promptly sprawling across him. Jason sighs and runs his hand through Sasha's hair, trying to figure out whether it's worth it to try to leave at this point. He shifts experimentally and Sasha props his chin on Jason's chest to glare up at him, wrapping himself a little more firmly around Jason.

"No," Sasha says. "You stay."

"Fine," Jason says, and relaxes again, curling his arm around Sasha's waist and trying to ignore the sharp spark of warmth in his chest when Sasha smiles at him.

Jason's never had a problem keeping his professional life and personal life seperate before, but then again, he's never had to deal with Sasha Semin before, either. Right now he's pretty sure it's a trade he's willing to make.  



End file.
